Wyatt
I’d just finished settingup my profile, after having to ask Payton and Aspen to take a photo of me from behind the day before. Embarrassing as fuck, but it did its job. I was now set up for anonymous encounters. And honestly, the photo wasn’t half bad. I’d put this off for as long as I could before I couldn’t any longer without Julian showing up at my door.
In the photo, I was leaning against the brick wall outside of The Raven, one foot crossed over the other, in my dark blue wranglers, white and black Nikes, and a white t-shirt with my arms crossed.
You could see that I was a fit dude, and I didn’t look horrible from the back, so it would do. Not like these women would be seeing my face anyway. I had to keep reminding myself that this was for work, and nothing else. Julianneeded to know for a fact that the app worked, and he didn’t have to worry about anyone stealing his clients’ information, before we could go wide with it to all the Silk and Spice members, and that was all there was to it. Simple. Easy.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked down at the text coming through. Speak of the devil.
Julian: Find anyone you like yet?
Julian: Also yes, I expect you to USE the app, Wyatt. Don’t just make a profile and claim ignorance. We both know you aren’t that picky.
I rolled my eyes. This fucker.
Me: Are YOU using the app, your highness?
Julian: Asshole.
Julian: I am actually. You can go on the back end and check out your King’s profile if you’re that interested.
Me: On it, your highness.
Me: Also, I have standards asshole. I can be picky when needed.
Julian laugh reacted to both the messages, and I couldn’t help the eye roll that once again hit me. This fucker. I sighed, confined to my fate, I started scrolling through the women who had already been invited to create profiles.
You were able to narrow it down based on preferences, but I needed to see how the whole damn app worked, so here I was—scrolling through all types of women. I was pleasantly surprised by how many women Julian had already been able to get signed up. Some of them were through the club, VIPmembers, and members who had been a part of the club for a couple of years, and some were people who’d heard about the opportunity through word-of-mouth. Not everyone was approved, and they still had to come in and submit a clean bill of health before their profiles would pop up on the app for anyone to see.
There were thankfully a few women who caught my eye. One was into being dominated and wanted to meet up at the club. Her photo was a dark-haired woman who was decked out in a lace bodysuit and a matching lace mask that went across her dark eyes.
Another one was a redhead, not natural with how bright the color was. It was definitely fire engine red from a box. She was into knife play but didn’t want anything anonymous. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but with this being for work, I wasn’t interested in anything being tracked back to me later.
I kept scrolling before I finally found a viable option for this lovely exercise. She was stunning if her photos were to be believed.
I read through her information quickly, twenty-four, self-employed, interested in anonymous primal play, rape fantasies, knife play without the blood, degradation, and open to exploring almost anything else besides bringing in a third.
She was…well stunning. Her long red hair was tied back into a braid over her shoulder, but this was natural, or at least she had a fantastic hairdresser if it wasn’t. It was that light color that was almost orange, but with a tint of brown thrown in there. I knew there was a name for it, but frankly, I didn’t care. I just knew I loved it. Her photo was a cropped-down photo of her that hid the top half of her face, leaving only her lips down to be seen. She looked to be on the shorter side, curvy but thin with a bit of muscle—she was probably a Pilates girl, maybe yoga. Her pale skin was the color you knew produced a bright red handprint when she acted out and got her ass smacked.
I cleared my throat before adjusting myself in my pants. Good lord, this hadn’t happened in a while.
I read through her bio before I got too invested. So far, I’d only looked at the basic info and her photos.
“Just a woman looking for a good time to piss my mom off. Twenty-four. Way too busy to fall in love with you, so if that’s your vibe, please don’t go there. Down for just about anything. Let’s fuck against a tree in the mountains of Colorado!”
I let out a chuckle. She just wanted to piss off her mom? Good lord. A small part of me wanted to know the story behind that. She sounded fiery, and she was hot as hell. So on one hand, at least she’d be entertaining, and hopefully, after the one time, we wouldn’t have to meet up again.
Assignment met. App works. Stick around on the back end for a bit and make sure everything is good, and then periodic maintenance and updates when Julian wants them.
Easy.
I hit the private message button and sent her a brief text—even her username was funny.
ImVengecock: Hey Scream-Pies. Was just looking over your profile, and I’m interested in fucking you against a tree. Let me know when and where.
I reread the message probably too many times before finally hitting send. This was way outside of my comfort zone and most definitely not how I ever picked up a woman. The online scene had never been my thing. I normally justmet women at bars and went from there. I enjoyed being able to read body language and put it all out there, but this was the job, and I was nothing if not dedicated as fuck to my work.
It thankfully didn’t take long before she hit me back—less time to overanalyze my message.
